


After Hours

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Dean, Dean gets fucked with his feet up in gynecological stirrups, Dean in Panties, Doctor Castiel, Doctor Kink, Face-Fucking, Feminization, M/M, Makeup, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Roleplay, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was blushing a bright shade of red, freckles popping, his lower lip plump from worrying it between his teeth. His feet were bare, wearing only the thin hospital gown that wasn’t even tied in the back, his round bubble butt falling out of the gown when he leaned forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“And are you sexually active?”

The patient shifted on the exam table, thin white paper underneath him crinkling. “Uh, yeah.”

“Do you use protection?” Castiel jotted notes down on his paperwork.

“No. But we uh, we’re monogamous.”

“When was the last time you had an STD screening?”

The patient scratched the back of his neck, looking down in his lap where the white gown was stretched over bowed thighs. “Before we started going bare, we were both checked.”

“And you haven’t had any other sexual partners since?”

“No.”

“It’s still a good idea to get checked regularly, in case your partner isn’t completely honest with you.”

Bright green eyes shot up and his pretty pink lips were parted in shock. Castiel tried not to snicker and continued, “How long have you been monogamous with this partner?”

Fumbling to get back into it, the patient rubbed his hands over his thighs, “Jeez, gotta be almost ten years now, about nine since we’ve been, you know, doing it.”

Humming, Castiel uncrossed his ankles and rolled his stool over to the sink cabinet in his generic doctor’s office. “And when did you start having erectile dysfunction?”

Mr. Winchester looked affronted, “Well I wouldn’t say it’s, uh, a dysfunction - I don’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have come to me if something wasn’t wrong.”

“It’s uh – well sometimes I have a hard time staying hard, it just uh, kind of goes down in the middle of sex. And sometimes, I can’t really get hard even if I’m turned on.”

He was back to staring at his lap. 

Castiel wheeled closer to him. “How frequently do you have sex?”

“God, we used to go at it like rabbits, sex three or four times a day, but anymore sometimes we can go a whole week without anything, it’s usually maybe two or three times in a week.”

“That’s fairly average for someone your age in a steady relationship. Stamina will decline as you get older. How frequently would you say you are able to maintain an erection and climax?”

It was endearing how he swung he legs hanging off the table like a young child. “Half the time? I can’t really get it up when I drink anymore. It uh, it usually stays the hardest in the morning.”

“That’s common. Given your age, I would recommend a prostate exam. Just to be certain. And if this is truly a cause of friction in your relationship I can prescribe something to assist you.”

“Uh, yeah sure, Doctor Novak, that sounds good.”

“All right. Please hop off the table and turn around, feet shoulders width apart, place your hands on the table and bend forward.”

Dean was blushing a bright shade of red, freckles popping, his lower lip plump from worrying it between his teeth. His feet were bare, wearing only the thin hospital gown that wasn’t even tied in the back, his round bubble butt falling out of the gown when he leaned forward. 

“Is this going to hurt, Doctor Novak?”

Ah, going with the ‘please be gentle I’m new to this’ routine. 

“No, it won’t hurt. You might feel some discomfort, but it won’t take long.”

Making sure to snap the nitrile glove on loudly, Castiel smiled at the flinch in Dean’s shoulders. Slicking his fingers, Castiel pushed his stool into the corner as he stood behind Dean. One bare hand pressed warmly to the small of Dean’s back, right between the dimples that bracketed his spine and over the light patch of fuzzy hair there. Rubbing the glove smooth pad of his thumb down between Dean’s legs, Castiel traced the crease of his perineum up to his anus and circled over the furrow of muscle. 

“Just take a deep breath. Trust me. I’ve done this many times before.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, that was a whimper. 

Dean slid his feet a little wider, pushing his backside out as his head hung between his arms, fingers wrinkling the white paper on the exam table. Popping the thumb in past the tight rim, Castiel stroked his fingers down against the soft warm skin between Dean’s legs and worked him up slowly. Rubbing a circle against his back, Castiel slid his hand over Dean’s hip and around, dipping down the ridge at the top of his leg and scratching his fingers through the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. 

Dean was already hard for him. 

“You don’t seem to have a problem getting an erection.”

“I uh – ohshitCas, I mean – uh – Doctor Novak, it’s, please just, a little more.”

Pressing his thumb to the inside of the rim and dragging it around in a circle before pulling out, Castiel pressed one finger inside – just a single digit, perfunctory, which he would be doing if he were actually performing a prostate exam – and pressed it to the inner wall towards Dean’s belly seeking out the tight little walnut sized bundle. 

“Here you are. Well, direct prostate stimulation may aide in arousal if your partner is… skilled in it. Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Yeah, fuck, come on doc, please –“

Slipping a second finger in easily, Dean’s body pliant and so yielding to suggestion, Castiel curled his bare hand around Dean’s cock and stroked loosely as he rubbed the pads of his fingers directly against his prostate feeling a dribble of ejaculate trickle onto his hand. Dean tugged the gown up where it was trapped between his thigh and the table, pulling it away from himself and pushing off the table further, bumping up against Cas and rubbing on him. 

The gown was slipped mostly down his arms, long stretch of tan freckled skin bared to Castiel, Dean’s muscular shoulders and broad back so beautiful. He wanted to feel Dean’s body without the glove in the way, lean forward and press warm kisses along the dip of his spine, inhale the nape of his neck where he was soft. Taking a calming breath, Castiel strived to keep it clinical, focus on the easy thrust of his fingers and squeeze the head of that thick cock wringing a quick orgasm out as Dean slapped the cushioned table with a ‘son of a bitch’, hips jerking and his arms locked straight. 

The white paper on the table was torn, standard turquoise plastic spattered wetly with Dean’s release. Castiel looked at it, hand on Dean’s hip, fingers pulling out of him, and before he gave it much thought he was pushing Dean to his knees. Snapping his glove off inside out, Castiel pushed Dean’s face towards the mess.

“You come in here with claims that aren’t true and make a mess out of my clean office –“

“I’m sorry –“

“- Clean it up.”

Striding to the foot pedal chrome trash can by the sink, Castiel dropped the glove in and arched an eyebrow as Dean glanced back at him with dilated eyes and a flush high on his cheeks before he turned back to the exam table and lapped at his mess. Christ, that was a sight. Ass pushed out and thighs sticky wet, pink tongue licking off the table as a bead of sweat dripped down his back. It wasn’t really part of the game but Castiel was aching hard in his black slacks and he was a weak, weak man. 

Brushing his white doctor’s coat back he unbuckled his slacks and pulled his cock out, stroking hard while he watched Dean, placing one hand in that short hair spiked up with sweat and making it even wilder. Dean tipped his head to the side looking up with from under his lashes as he swiped his tongue in long lazy paths over the table. 

“Oh shit…”

Pulling Dean’s head to his lap, plush pink lips parted eagerly and Dean toppled forward to take him in, hands bracing on Castiel’s thighs as Dean bobbed down on him. Cradling Dean’s face, Castiel snapped his hips forward and sunk into the welcoming heat of his mouth, jaw gone slack and spit dripping down his chin as his eyes rolled back on a moan taking Castiel into his throat. Fucking Dean’s mouth a scant few thrusts, Castiel pulled out and stuttered a groan as his climax rolled through him like a flash flood there and gone, splashing wet over Dean’s face.  

Dean was grinning dopey, swiping his thumb over a spatter of come that was a little too close to his eye, licking white painted lips and humming contentedly as it dripped down his cheeks to slide under his chin and down his neck. He looked so content there, on his knees for Castiel, and Castiel had to take a minute to luxuriate in it as he scratched through Dean’s hair before pulling him up to push him onto the exam table. 

Clambering up after him, Castiel pressed his face into Dean’s shoulder and groaned, “I can’t believe I let you talk me into that. This really is highly unprofessional.”

“That was fucking hot. And it took you long enough, damn near ten years for me to talk you into that.”

“Is it….. is it strange if I’d like to put you in the gynecological stirrups?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t think I can get it up again so soon.”

“Well, I didn’t mean right now. And really, Dean, you perform exceedingly well for late thirties, a decline in stamina can only be expected with age.”

“Dude, your dick gets rock hard if I breathe on you.”

“I know. It’s annoying.”

“It’s kind of awesome.”

“My knees are going bad.”

“We could always get a swing.”

“Hm.”

“All right, I’m sticky, let’s clean up and get out of here. Doctor Novak.”


	2. Chapter 2

Shoulders hunched, Castiel tapped his foot on the linoleum floor as he slumped over a manila folder brimming with papers and his open lap top – glaring at him, taunting him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his nose; it was going on seven o’clock and he had run late with an appointment anyway, so he had staid behind to try to figure out what the heck was going on with Ms. O’Mally. He couldn't seem to figure anything out from the blood tests but she had still smiled at him kindly and patted his arm like she had every faith in him. Sighing, still in exam room four, Castiel scowled at his papers. He could have moved to his office but once he focused on a problem he tended to fixate.

It was getting late. He’d already texted Dean that he would home late, but it was Wednesday. Spaghetti night. He loved Dean’s spaghetti, and oh, the garlic bread.

There was a creak at the door and Castiel rubbed his eyes before swiveling his stool around. He could have sworn all the nurses had gone home already. Honestly he should probably just take this home with him to finish.

“Can I help you?”

His question tapered off quietly, a wide grin spreading on his face at the sight of Dean leaning against the door frame. Wearing a black shirt that stretched nicely over his chest and a red plaid over it, jeans well worn and snug on his bowed thighs, Dean smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know doc, I have an after hours appointment with a… Doctor Novak, s’that you?”

Rolling his eyes, Castiel beckoned for Dean to come in to the exam room. “Yes, what seems to be the problem.”

This was a horribly bad idea. After he’d finally capitulated to his partner’s raging ‘sexy doctor’ fantasy several weeks ago, Dean had been ceaselessly reminding Castiel of the various parts about it that he liked best. They really shouldn’t do it again. It should be a one time thing. Best not to make a habit out of it.

Only, Dean shuffled forward somewhat nervously and Castiel had to admit that he was intrigued. Dean closed and locked the exam room door behind him. When he moved closer in to the room, Castiel leaned forward and squinted. Was he ….. wait was he wearing make up? Dean’s already beautifully sculpted face, masculine and lovely at the same time, was accentuated with black eye liner, a bold red on his lips, his lashes darker and fuller than usual. Castiel stared.

Dean at least seemed more in his element when Castiel was being awkward.

Shrugging out of his plaid shirt, Dean flung it onto a chair. “See, I’ve got my first appointment for, uh – “ pulling his t-shirt over his head, Castiel gasped –“For a, gynecological appointment.”

Dean’s cheeks were bright pink, his hands didn’t seem to know where to settle. He crossed his arms over his chest, the black sheer mesh bra that was a flat shapeless thing stretched over his broad chest, dotted with little velvet polka dots and a tiny red rose bow in the middle. Then he settled his hands on his hips. Shifted. Swung his hands at his sides.

Castiel coughed and hastily folded up his papers and his laptop and set them neatly aside before giving Dean his full, unwavering attention. “Yes, I remember now. Please disrobe.”

Dean’s lips twitched in a smirk and his cocky bravado was back full force. The very obvious erection in the front of Castiel’s slacks probably helped with that. This was Dean’s game. His broad calloused hands, always rough from construction work, deftly flicked his belt buckle open as he slid his pants down. Delicate panties matching his bra, black mesh with velvet polka dots in a flattering cut made to fit a man, hugged his body. Castiel’s hands twitched on his thighs, wanting to reach out.

“Leave your bra on, if you like, do you want a robe?”

“Nah.”

“I will need you to take off your panties.”

Castiel’s voice was hoarse. He had very, very good self control. Sat quite still as Dean turned around, his firm ass framed entirely too nicely in those panties that Castiel just wanted to stay there and stare. But he was bending forward at the waist just a little, letting his thighs fall wider, as he slowly hooked his fingers in the waist band and slid them down.

Oh god he was shaved completely bare. Castiel was fixated on the lovely undergarments and hadn’t noticed the smooth unblemished skin of Dean’s long muscular legs, the darker skin between his thighs, the slightly curved roll of his belly and oh, his underarms too. He turned around and preened under Castiel’s wandering stare, and yes, his mouth had fallen open somewhat.

But Dean was keeping the bra on. Nipples peaked stiffly underneath it. Somehow, the delicate things on his body only made his masculine aspects appear more masculine, flimsy material stretched over hard muscle, smooth skin flexing with his strength.

Castiel took a shaky breath. “Sit on the table, at the edge, I’ll pull the stirrups out and help get you situated.”

“Sure thing, doc.”

Dean practically hopped up on the table, his toes almost reaching the ground but not quite. The white paper cover crinkled and he curled his hands around the edge as he hunched forward, watching Castiel pull the shiny metal stirrups from their tucked away compartment, adjusting them before putting his hands on Dean’s legs to guide them up. They were silky smooth. Castiel briefly wondered if he’d gotten them waxed. Dean had done that before, a few times just for him.

Castiel wasn’t certain exactly how far into the role play Dean wanted to get this time, but he could help running his cheek along the skin of Dean’s leg as he held it up, from the ankle up to the soft insides of his thighs. He could feel Dean shiver underneath him, and he was probably tickling Dean with his stubble but there were no complaints for it.

Getting Dean’s feet situated in the stirrups, Castiel took in the sight of him. Spread wide and vulnerable, shaved bare, bra tight across his chest and his face delicately painted. His cock was already hard, tapping in the groove of his hip as he wiggled a little, propping up on his elbows and biting his lip. Castiel’s brain short circuited as to what exactly he was supposed to be doing here.

“Dean, I’m going to fuck you like this.”

“Fuck, yes, dude please.”

Banging his knees on the exam table as Castiel wheeled his stool closer, he wrapped his arms under Dean’s thighs – spread high and up – to grip onto the meat of his hips. Dipping down between his legs, Castiel licked out as he rubbed his face in the soft smooth skin of his perineum. Dean was fresh and clean, faintest salt of his skin on Castiel’s tongue, and all Castiel could think about was him shaving in the shower, maybe after getting the text Castiel was staying late, maybe rushing it or maybe jerking himself off slowly under the warm water, maybe fingering himself open as he cleaned himself.

Groaning, Castiel nudged his nose under the heavy weight of Dean’s scrotum as he lapped at the crease down to his asshole, dragging teeth over sensitive skin to hear the hitch in Dean’s breath. Petting up the spread of his thick thighs, Castiel swirled his fingertips over shaved skin and moved to kiss the base of Dean’s cock, suck a bruise on his thigh, another to match on the other side, glancing up to see Dean glassy eyed and panting.

Dean was so spread for him like this, propped up and exposed. Castiel was sure to take his time in appreciation for Dean’s thoughtfulness, leaving kisses down his thighs as he licked between his legs again, swirling his tongue around the tight furl of muscle and flattening it to give long, wet stripes up from his hole to his balls again, and again, until Dean was gripping hard into his hair and shoving him down insistently. Relenting, Castiel pursed his lips around the pink flutter of muscle and squirmed his tongue inside, salivating wet and spreading it enthusiastically as he ate Dean out like the offering he was.

“Holy fuck don’t make me come on your tongue pleasepleaseplease…”

Pulling back just enough to fumble for the bottle of jelly lubricant in the drawer under the table, Castiel slicked his fingers and slid two inside right away. “Of course not. You’re not going to come until I’m inside you with your feet in the air and your ass hanging off this table.”

“Oh shit Cas…”

Standing up and kicking the stool behind him, hearing it clatter away and thump against the wall, Castiel twisted his fingers inside Dean and spread them open, working his muscle loose, fumbling at the belt of his slacks to get his cock out. Dean was splayed back on the table, one hand folded under his head on the upward slope of the table back and the white paper torn underneath him as he scooted and squirmed. His bra was rucked up, one hand pinching at a nipple as Castiel fingered him.

Still wearing his white coat, name badge flapping as he bent over and got the lubricant again to slick himself, Castiel held the backs of Dean’s thighs as he nudged between them and thrust inside the slick heat of his body, sinking in flush easily. Dean arched off the table, hand flying up to grab Castiel’s arm, twisting up his jacket and holding on to him. Castiel paused, languishing in the hold of Dean’s body, the molten silk rippling around him, pulling him in.

Sliding his hands down and gripping Dean’s backside, Castiel tugged him to hang off the table a little more, pulling his ass out and making his legs splay even wider, before snapping his hips to set a vicious pace fucking Dean roughly.

Dean’s eyes flew wide, both hands reaching up to grip his shoulders as Castiel curled over him, hips rolling fluidly with the perfect ease of Dean’s body so open for him. Dean was stammering quiet breathy ‘Cas, Cas, fuck yeah, yeah, god’ and his face was unbearably gorgeous with how green his eyes were lined by black. Dean’s body seized around him, clenched tight and Dean was groaning, head tossed back and body arched up pushing his hips down against Castiel, splashing his pretty bra white with his come and Castiel couldn’t last a second longer. Hips stuttering forward jerkily, Castiel ground against Dean’s smooth skin as he came buried deep in the heat of his body, breathing in jagged gasps and holding on tight.

Dean’s muscles fluttered around Castiel when he laughed breathlessly, one hand shifting up ghosting across the back of his neck and pushing in to his hair. Castiel braced his hands on the side of the table and slumped over Dean, leaning down to lick a fleck of come off his collarbone and nuzzle into the soft sweet smell of his neck.

“Dude.”

“I know…”

Pulling out, cock warm and wet, Castiel dragged one hand under Dean’s body to slip his fingers through the mess and into the loose hold of his body. Dean squirmed under him, sighing, fingers scratching his scalp slightly and hips twitching. Castiel couldn’t get enough of him, ever, he was greedy for Dean’s body.

“So, uh, you done with work cause I’m starving. Figure we might pick up burgers on the way home?”

“Well, I’m done now.” Fingers sloppy, Castiel sighed and stood to tuck himself back in. “Will you wear your make up out?”

Dean smiled, all pretty doll painted and freckled, “Yeah, sure. People’r gonna stare.”

“People always stare at you.” Pecking a kiss to Dean’s forehead, Castiel pulled his bra back down and smoothed it across his warm chest, hands lingering over his heart. “But you’re mine.”


End file.
